Calling the boys:
āHi, I think I killed someone.
Help, what do I do?ā ā„ļ¹ā„
Damon: "Rosebud, whatā¦? Are you hurt?!" you hear DG cackle in the background DG: "Yo, MC! Send a pic?" Damon: "We don't need a pic right now. MC, where are you? We'll pick you up." DG: "Wait-! Waaaait! You need to check if they're really dead first! MC, kick them! Go for the crotch!" Damon: "DG." his tone drops, suddenly colder "They're scared. Stop giggling like a hyena." softer, to you "My love, are they on the floor? Are you alone with the body right now?" DG: "Speaking of whichāshit. Weāre out of bleach. Completelyā¦" Damon: mutters "I told you we shouldāve bought moreā¦" then louder, focused on you again "Okay, listen carefully. Donāt panic. Firstādonāt touch anything with your bare hands if you havenāt already. Use your sleeve, shirt hem, whatever. If thereās blood on you, donāt try to wash it off yet; that spreads it. Just⦠stay calm." DG: "Roll them in whatever youāve got. Carpet, tarp, shower curtain, big trash bagsāduct tape the seams if you can find any. Makes transport way less messy. Oh! And prop the head up with something. Blood pools downward; you donāt want a crime scene that looks like a fucking fountain when we get there." Damon: "MC⦠whatever happened, it's okay. Weāll take care of everything. Just stay on the line. Weāre coming for you right now. I promise." DG: cheerful as ever "And if they twitch again, knee them in the face. Hard. Breaks the nose, fills the airway, hehehe⦠Youāre doing great, pup! First killās always the messiest. Weāll clean it up nice and pretty for you~"














